


it was nice

by maketea



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Kissing, LadyNoir - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 13:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19020814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maketea/pseuds/maketea
Summary: chat noir wishes he remembered the time ladybug kissed him.





	it was nice

**Author's Note:**

> /fingerguns/ it's 1AM !!!!!!! im so dead i just love ladynoir ok i love them so much. i want them to kiss again please

"Could I ask you something?"

Ladybug pushed the bakery bag down. Chat Noir sat facing the lopsided swing set.

"Sure," she said.

He fell silent again, just like before. The swings rocked and bumped in a sweep of wind; Ladybug clutched the bag further to her chest. Two macarons left — two she hoped she could goad Chat Noir into eating. But Ladybug couldn't goad until he spoke, so she sat atop the bench with a paper bag crumpled in her hands while Chat Noir's ears flickered under the breeze.

"How did it feel when you…?" 

And the silence came again.

"When I what?" she asked.

He lowered his head. "When you… kissed me."

Her grasp failed around the paper bag. 

The kiss. Of course.

For a moment, she raised her eyes to the net of branches above them. Then, Ladybug squeezed her eyes shut. Nothing could rinse out Chat Noir’s taste, because his taste wasn’t just his taste, but his firm mouth, his wet lips, the clumsy manoeuvre of their lips on lips and noses on noses and hands on cheeks until she fell flat below him once they were done.

How did it feel?

"It was… nice, I suppose." 

Finally, Chat Noir hung an arm off her lap and turned around, eyebrows high.  She blushed deeply. Ladybug rested a hand on his cold forearm and set the paper bag beside her.

"How?" he said. 

A deeper flush. He had melted against her, relaxed his lips, kissed her back. His hand floated beside her and if it weren't for the cataclysm brewing in his palm, she was certain he would have embraced her.

"You just… well…" She squeezed his forearm. "Your lips are soft. They're soft, and I could tell you licked them before we kissed, and…" Chat Noir's underlip glistened with a distracting white gloss. "This is so embarrassing."

He laughed. "It's a shame I'll never remember it though."

"Well, we could always do it again."

Out there in the cold, insoluble and unignorable and as thick as sludge between them, Ladybug's suggestion whipped Chat's head up faster than she had ever seen. Perhaps if she paid more attention, she'd find a way to follow herself up. Maybe the words wouldn't stick to her throat on their way up to their mouth if she could only take her eyes from his lips. 

The lips she had tasted. The lips that were on hers, that she felt before, that were the first to touch her mouth, and she hoped her mouth was the first to touch them, too.

He gulped hard. She watched his throat jump. “You’d want to?”

It was her turn to gulp. “There’d be no harm in it, right?” 

“R-right.” Chat Noir put a hand on Ladybug’s knee. “Can I move closer?”

She wasn’t sure if she nodded, or said yes, or if he understood just by the way she slipped across the top of the bench until the side of her thigh was tucked up to his shoulder, because either way, Chat Noir was closer. 

The wind fanned the paper bag. Ladybug used her foot to brush it aside. 

She nuzzled the cold tip of his nose. He snickered, she giggled, and they lapsed into silence once they caught each other’s eyes again.

Ladybug leaned in, and pecked his lips.

A single, electric moment.

Perhaps not even a moment — it could’ve been a millisecond for all she knew, but the spark of his lips on hers, his warmth mixed with hers, the breeze on his mouth like mildew — none of it could ever be lost to memory. She wasn’t even sure if he had his eyes closed for the most of it — it was so quick — but it happened, and it was done, and she could still taste him once she pulled back and laughed shakily against his chin.

“That was nice,” he said into a grin.

“It was,” she replied, and wrung her hands into the paper bag. “Really nice.”

She dared to lift her head, dared to meet his gaze.

This time, Chat Noir closed his eyes.


End file.
